


the sound of trumpets is a glorious thing

by BlithelyandBlissfully



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alive James and Lily Potter, Auror Harry Potter, Harry meets his parents, Jaded enigma Harry, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Sassy Harry, The Marauders are a go with the flow kind of bunch and it shows, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27760204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlithelyandBlissfully/pseuds/BlithelyandBlissfully
Summary: Sirius Black just wanted to have a nice, peaceful evening to catch up with his friends. He hasn’t seen them in what feels like weeks and hasn’t had a conversation in even more. Everything was going extremely well, right up until the moment a man who looked a scary amount like James crashed into the bread pudding.His night was not going how he wanted at all.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 187





	the sound of trumpets is a glorious thing

**Author's Note:**

> A strange man crashes the Potter’s dinner plans.

“What’s your name?” Sirius asked, demanded really, for the third time. He didn't expect an answer, but he was starting to get frustrated and he had so many questions still unanswered. 

He was tiring of the runaround, the jokes in place of answers, the lies and slights. That’s Sirius’ thing, after all. It was a mixture of amusing and infuriating to have it turned back on himself. He felt a cosmic joke being made somewhere.

The man scoffed at him, and gave Sirius a very unimpressed look before glancing away as if having dismissed him.

“Not sure why it’s necessary to know,” the man said flippantly, leaning back. He stared very determinedly at a spot in the corner, doing his best to avoid looking at Sirius. “And honestly, these are terrible questions. Your interrogation techniques leave a lot to be desired.” The chair tilts dangerously as he leans even further back, balanced on just two wooden legs, but the man remains visibly unconcerned. 

The only tell alluding to any discomfort the man has so far exhibited is an occasional tightening around his eyes and the arms he has crossed in front of him. It could be a defensive posture, meant to project arrogance and defiance, but Sirius doesn’t think so. It honestly looked like the man was trying to hug himself, more than anything.

“What questions should I ask then?” Sirius asked, tone annoyed. He twisted his wand idly in his hand, the motion mostly hidden at his side.

\- 

They’d been at it for over half an hour, a back and forth that was starting to make Sirius dizzy. He never was much for word games, could never master the subtle idiosyncrasies needed for that type of manipulation. Once he was out of his family’s clutches, he really didn’t feel like there was a pressing need to cultivate the skill. He was an action kind of guy, to be completely honest, and didn’t often think twice before jumping into precarious situations. 

It was usually James that pulled him from the ledge, that softens the damage of the sharp edges Sirius can’t seem to dull. James forced Sirius to be cautious and to at least _try_ to be clever. James would be brilliant at getting this recalcitrant and mysterious man to reveal the secrets they’re so desperately trying to pry out of him. James has a disarming charm about him which is typically so much more effective than Sirius' mixture of flirting and threatening. Whether it was his still boyish smile or his unfairly good humor, James was their best when it comes to extracting information after Moody.

But James can’t. He can’t be in the same room as the man, let alone attempt an interrogation. 

Not just because the man looked like he could be James’ twin, but because of the reaction the man had when James had first attempted to speak to him. They have to take it easy now.

-

They’d been eating dinner. 

James and Lily had wanted a small get-together, having not seen their friends in several weeks due to busy schedules. Each had their own jobs as well as missions assigned by the Order.

Sirius was looking forward to seeing Remus, because he still feared greatly for his friend whose mission was only spoken of in whispers and pained silences. Sent to a den of wolves, Sirius truly worried for him. He looked more haggard every time Sirius saw him and he spoke less and less. Sirius couldn’t help but fill the long silences in their conversations, the short lines in their letters, the strained greetings passed before Order meetings, with dark and foreboding thoughts. 

Peter had also come, looking more sullen than usual, his skin a bit sunken in. It seemed he hadn’t been eating recently. Last Sirius had heard from him, he’d just finished settling his mother’s estate. He hadn’t received too much, his mother never worked due to her poor health, but his grandfather had made excellent money in offering respectable wizarding funeral services. Peter’s mother, while having spent the money her father left her lavishly in her youth, had become more frugal as her sickness set in. Peter had, therefore, a modest inheritance that would last him as he continued to struggle to find work. He’d been rather close to his mother, though. Sirius expected he wouldn’t look for work until he’d managed his grief. 

Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadows came as well. They were a bit inseparable, those two. Lily had grown close to them sometime in fifth year, likely due to their uncanny ability to appear at Lily’s side anytime Snape appeared with a pleading expression. The falling out between the old childhood friends had been quite public, after all. 

They were rather interesting, the pair of them. Dorcas was a potions mistress and had a contract to supply St Mungos with her perfect brews of blood replenisher, pepper up, as well as antidotes to common poisons. She also had a consultation position in which she would be asked to assist on extreme cases, ones that required a specialized potion to contain curses or neutralize the effects of whatever hazardous spell the Death Eaters had inflicted upon the patient. 

Marlene was a bit of mystery. He’d often heard her ranting to Lily a time or two about the importance of warding one’s closet against fire-moths. He’d once seen her whispering to a wall. She’d been furious with him when he’d asked what the hell she was doing, grumbling about idiot Blacks ruining the vibrations of her runic harmonizing. He didn’t pretend to know much about her or her creepy family, but even his own harpy of a mother thought twice before tangling with the Mckinnons. Sirius would happily keep his distance.

The conversation between them all was a bit awkward at first, words hesitant while Lily and James tried to draw their more solemn friends into the discussion. Once the food finished and plates were passed around, however, things had begun to progress much more smoothly. 

Lily had commented that these were her mother’s hearty recipes and that they could warm anybody down to their bones. 

Sirius thinks it’s that shimmery purple potion he saw her stirring into the casserole before she’d topped it with seasoned breadcrumbs and shoved it in the oven. She’s sneaky, that one. He knows it’s probably something to help with stress or something equally helpful but unnecessary. He did have to admit, however, that it worked. 

Dorcas, of course, had known immediately what Lily had done before she’d ever taken a bite and proceeded to add an extra portion to Marlene’s plate.

Peter had begun to smile sometime after his third bite, taking long pauses between forkfuls in order to draw James into discussion. James regaled Peter with stories of his training exercises and continued education in his quest to become an Auror. He was hardly a quarter of the way through the program, but it was still fascinating to Peter, who’d only received three NEWTs and was now unsure where to proceed. 

Lily was prying information from Dorcas, trying to ask her about her hobbies as opposed to listening to Dorcas describe a particularly nasty curse she’d come across just last week that caused hard, rocky clusters to grow from a patient‘s legs. Lily loved to talk potions, especially particularly complex or interesting maladies, as long as it wasn’t at the dinner table. Dorcas wasn’t taking the hint, though. Marlene wasn’t helping either as she’d poke Lily anytime the woman attempted to interject.

Remus, the unlucky bastard, got Sirius’ full and undivided attention. A fact which brought an amused and indulgent look to the tired man’s haggard face, something that caused Sirius to internally preen. Sirius had truly turned up his roguish charm, pulling out all the stops in order to entertain Remus. He waved his hands animatedly, his humor biting with a daring edge, eliciting light chuckles from the werewolf that sent his heart fluttering. Sirius would make ploys at his other companions, sending bits of food flying across the table or a wad of napkins, only to duck a stinging hex sent discreetly by Lily. 

Eventually their conversation’s gravity shifted, the orbit passing between each other until it devolved into banter and lighthearted play between them all, avoiding any thoughts of the war. Everyone was laughing, even Dorcas. They were almost finished with their second bottle of wine, their food long forgotten, dessert still unserved.

And then there was a great ripping sound, like a knife through fabric, and somebody appeared flying through the air, landing with a crash in the bread pudding Lily had left waiting on the kitchen island. Their momentum had sent them sliding off the island and tumbling into the cabinets, taking the bread pudding with them. The glimpse caught of the person while airborne wasn’t much revealing as they’d held up protective arms over their face, shielding their body from some unseen force.

Marlene, ever inappropriate, had started clapping while looking delighted. Everyone else had jumped, half risen out of their seats with wands drawn. Sirius could feel a snarl on his lips, a curse on the tip of his tongue. He could see Remus out of the corner of his eye, tense and wary, poised to spring. James was nearest to the mysterious interloper, already having stood and taken a step closer, his movements cautious but steady. 

The figure huddled among the ruined dessert groaned deeply, exposing himself as distinctly male. “Where the bloody hell?” He mumbled to himself, sounding confused. He uncurled from his protective ball and attempted to push himself up before James intervened. 

“Not to be rude,” James started, voice carefully light, ”but who are you and how did-” 

James hadn’t gotten to finish his very pertinent question because at the sound of James' voice, the stranger had done a complicated roll before springing to his feet. A wand no one had seen before that moment had appeared in his hand, pointed directly at James face. 

With this action, they could all finally get a clear look at the man’s features. 

Lily let out a high-pitched “oh” of surprise while Remus drew in a sharp breath. 

Sirius assumes it was most shocking for James, however. The man could be James’ brother, if not his twin. There were a few differences, but the similarities were alarming. Sirius expected it was rather like looking in a slightly distorted mirror. 

They both had the same unruly black mess of hair, same thin wire-framed spectacles, same elegant square jaw and tapered nose. Ignoring the distinctly green eyes and leaner build, the man was a carbon copy of James. 

There was also a curious scar on his head. Sirius couldn’t get a good look at it as the man’s hair swept his forehead, covering the mark slightly.

Everyone stewed in the tense silence for a moment as they tried to process this development. 

“What the bloody hell,” the man murmured as his eyes darted around the room and absorbed their startled features. “What the actual buggering hell?” He tugged anxiously at his collar, drawing attention to his appearance.

He was wearing a fuzzy green sweater that looked a size too big on him and black slacks. Sirius couldn’t see anything else helpful that might identify the man. He was just dressed so casually for invading their dinner plans. Sirius noticed that he was much smaller than James, wiry where James was broad. 

“You’re really not supposed to be here,” Marlene offered. Her initial delight had obviously worn off. She had outwardly dismissed the situation completely and had begun to doodle on a napkin, having retaken her seat with a flourish. 

“Listen,” James interrupted and drew the man’s attention again. His tone had taken on an authoritative edge. He had shifted in an attempt to block Lily from view. “Let’s all put our wands down-“

“I don’t understand,” the stranger cut him off. “I don’t-“ He visibly swallowed, looking uncomfortable in his own skin. “How did I get here? I was just-“ He whined low in his throat, the sound piercing. 

“Calm down,” James tried again, voice now soothing instead of demanding. He took another step but stopped when the other man flinched. “It’s okay. Let’s put our wands down and-“

“No,” the man said cooly. “Who are you?”

“Really,” James said, annoyed. “I should be asking you that, this is my house.”

“No,” the man repeated. 

“James-“ Lily whispered, alarmed. 

The man positively _recoiled_ at the sound of her voice. His whole body shuddering, he took a staggered step back and bumped into the counter behind him.

“James?” He whispered to himself, mouth twisting into some unrecognizable shape. “No, absolutely fucking not.” 

“My name absolutely is James. James Potter. Owner of the house you’ve just broken into unannounced. Still wondering how you did that, by the way.” James was going for forced casualness, trying to appear non-threatening lest he set off the man.

“No,” the man said, “you’re not.”

“Okay,” James agreed to renouncing his name easily. “Fine. Can you put down the wand now?”

“When I’m dead,” the man hissed, eyes flashing. 

Sirius snarled at that. “We can arrange that, mate.” 

“This is very clever,” the man said, apropos of nothing, gaze resolutely looking at none of them. His stance had relaxed slightly and he leaned more casually against the counter. His wand was still held aloft, but the wrist wasn’t as taut with tension. Sirius was floored at the switch between uncomprehending fear to predatory grace. “I have no idea how you managed this.”

“Managed what?” Peter whimpered, having finally found his voice. His wand shook in one hand while his other gripped the edge of the table with white-knuckled fingers. 

Sharp green eyes narrowed at him with frightening intensity and Peter whimpered again. A shadow fell across the man’s face. Something dark and feral gleamed in the stranger’s eyes, something that hadn’t been there before. Sirius coiled his body in anticipation.

“They should never have used your face,” the man said, confusing everyone. “What a silly mistake.” The hand holding his wand barely twitched before Peter flew back, chair tipping to the floor and out of the way. Peter slammed into the wall, expression dazed before sliding to the floor. Sirius had no time between one moment and the next.

“No!” James roared and waved his wand. “ _Metallum Ferracanis!_ ” The stray butter knife next to the strange man transformed into a gleaming silver terrier that snatched the wand from his hand. The terrier quickly brought it to James, who snatched it away with shaking fingers. 

“You really are James Potter,” the man said in a horrified tone, watching the transfigured dog with alarmed eyes. His arm was still up, hand still out with curled fingers, as if his wand had never been taken. Sirius, however, could see the fine tremors that ran up and down the extended limb.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, mate,” James responded and shrugged his tense shoulders. The terrier returned to its’ original form and clattered onto the counter. He held the man’s wand loosely by his side, his own still trained on the stranger’s now weary face.

And then hell really broke loose. 

-

It was as if a rubber band had snapped. The air grew heavy as the cabinets had begun to rattle dangerously. The fine tremors had turned into full body shudders. The air around the man shimmered as if he were surrounded by a heat wave. A miasmic smell, dense as ozone, had begun to permeate the room.

Magic, thick and cloying, swelled out of the man.

It was so intense and vibrant, terrifying in its quantity. Sirius could feel the writhing mass of magic that whipped around the man, making gouges in the countertops and pulling plates from the cabinets. The wallpaper had singed and curled, as if trying to crawl towards the ceiling, away from the oppressive presence. Sirius watched the startled expression return to the man’s face, how his eyes frantically darted across the features of those surrounding him with new regard, as if drinking them all in. His magic rose with his swirling emotions, thrashing against the edges of the room as if trying to escape. They all felt it’s crushing weight, all began to shrink away from it. 

When cracks had begun to spider web across the ceiling, Sirius worried the house would collapse soon if they didn’t do something. 

Fortunately, no action was necessary.

The rubber band snapped again and the magic was reigned in.There was a final burst of violet light that they all shielded their eyes from before the man simply fell. 

His body hit the floor with a loud thump. One of the cabinet doors fell off its hinges and smacked the floor. The silence that remained was deafening. 

-

“That was unexpected,” Remus said softly, cracking the delicate shell of tension. 

Sirius snorted and stepped around his chair towards Peter. His heart was beating a wild staccato in his chest. “Bit of an understatement,” he said mildly. He grabbed Peter’s lax hand and dragged the still stunned man up. 

Peter went willingly enough, face clearing as he was lifted to his feet. “Ugh,” he groaned, “like I got hit by a train.”

Sirius let out a short laugh. “Better you than me,” he joked and clapped Peter on the back.

“I can smell time magic,” Marlene chimed in, rather unhelpfully. She looked positively gleeful at the prospect of dangerous and unstable magic. Sirius felt queasy. 

“That’s just what we need around here.” Lily’s voice was exasperated, the corners around her eyes pinched with stress, but the tilt to her mouth conveyed the scholarly interest she couldn’t help.

Dorcas tsked and crossed her arms, looking disgruntled. Vexed by Marlene’s enthusiasm or the prospect of this new development, Sirius couldn’t tell. 

“How is this even possible?” Lily clicked her tongue and sighed. “Time magic is old and most knowledge was removed from public sources after the ICW ruled it too dangerous. The Department of Mysteries has cornered the market as the only legal route due to the literary ban. I’d never imagined time magic would be capable of surpassing modern wards. It shouldn’t be able to, if the recorded power surges I found in that research journal your mother gave me are to be believed, Marlene. Marlene?”

Marlene was twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers, her gaze far away. She hummed thoughtfully, tapping the edge of her napkin with one of Lily’s muggle pens. It was obviously what she’d used to furiously scribble away earlier. “Oh, Lily Billy,” she said dreamily, “Time magic does not logic abide. I can ask mummy. She might know more. We can ask our time traveler, too.”

“Honestly, he seemed a bit like he had no idea what was going on either,” Sirius cut in. 

“Could have been an act,” Lily suggested.

“That reaction was rather extreme for a farce,” Remus said, tone mild. He was in his very common thinking pose. His left arm was wrapped around his chest and supporting his elbow. He had his other arm up, chin resting in his palm, knuckles poking outward. Sirius eyed him with appreciation.

“Either way,” Dorcas interjected, “it is foolish, having anything to do with the meddling of time.” She hissed and stood up, reminding Sirius of a rearing cat. “It would be _best_ to pass him along to the Department of Mysteries and let them sort him out.” 

Marlene looked affronted at the suggesting while James hummed, looking unconvinced. He flicked his wand, banishing the mess of food and repairing the plates left on the floor. Another flick and the dishes were soaring into the sink where they began to wash themselves.

Lily moved to help him, her wand flying through the motions to clear away the remaining napkins and silverware. Her thoughts were fast and troubled, and it showed on her face. 

Sirius watched her make eye contact with James and figured he knew what conclusion they’d come to.

It would be best to contact the Order for this. It would be best to alert Albus.

There’d been whispers of a leak somewhere, high up in the chain of command at the ministry. James wouldn’t take any chances with this man who looked so much like him. 

He stated as much to the room at large, much to Dorcas’ chagrin. The woman ceded with a disgruntled frown.

Remus, the voice of reason, suggested they contact their former headmaster to see if he was up for a late night visit. He also suggested that they might all retire to the parlor after someone made some tea so that they could attempt to sober up. Sirius could still feel the warmth from the wine and Lily’s potion lingering in his belly and knew that the werewolf was right.

Remus also stated that questioning the man was a must. Everyone but Dorcas agreed with that. She was still wary of the dangers of a possible paradox. Whatever they could find out about the dinner party crasher, however, would be a boon. They needed to minimize the unknowns before the headmaster arrived. 

“Well,” Dorcas said, moving towards the kettle with determination, “I’ll start the tea.” 

“I’m going to floo Albus,” Lily called behind her as she left the room in a rush. James trailed after her, though much more sedately.

“What are we gonna do with the nutter still on the floor?” Sirius asked, voice indignant. He’d walked to stand next to the still collapsed form, glancing over the pale ankles and delicate wrists that peeked out from the edges of the man’s clothes. 

The man didn’t appear much of a threat. Why, his sweater looked like something his great aunt Cassiopeia might try to knit as a gift. He looked small, crumpled on the ground like that. His dark hair fanned against the tiled floor in short,messy curls, less gravity defying now that he wasn’t vertical. 

He tried not to think of the man’s haunting eyes staring out of a familiar face.

“Here.” 

A wrinkled napkin was unexpectedly pressed into Sirius’ hand, making him jump. 

Marlene stood in front of him, an unimpressed look on her face. She raised an eyebrow into a high arch. “Alright there, Black sheep?” He bristled at the moniker, but she didn’t notice. She looked down at the man sprawled on the ground. “He’s not going to bite. At least, not more than he already has. However he got here and then that cute little display of wild magic? He should be out for a while.”

She stared at him expectantly. He didn’t get it.

“Take that,” she said and pointed at the napkin, “and take our new boy wonder into Lily’s office.” She ignored James piping in to argue that the office was _his_ , thank you. “Slap that on the door before you leave the room. Should help contain him for a bit.”

Sirius glanced at the crumpled napkin in his hand. He smoothed it out, now seeing that there was a pentagonal rune drawn elegantly on it in smooth black ink. He blinked several times, realizing this was what she’d been drawing while they’d been confronting the stranger.

He could see that the runes centered around sowulo, linking and binding to contain power through the use of hagalaz, but not much more than that. It looked like it was based off a containment rune schematic he’d seen before, but he couldn’t be sure. He had dropped ancient runes after only a year in the course, after all.

It was pretty astounding for Marlene to manage that in the little spare time she had though. 

-

“I’ll help,” Remus offered, “but you get to grab the feet.” He grinned at Sirius, stepping around the kitchen island and moving closer while Marlene slipped out of the way.

They made quick work between the two of them, dragging the surprisingly light man into James/Lily’s office and propping him in one of the two desk chairs there. 

Sirius slapped the rune on the door, sending a burst of magic to activate it. 

He felt a little burst of apprehension, knowing the man somehow broke Marlene’s wards before by even coming to James and Lily’s house. He pushed that away, though. James still had the man’s wand and, if Lily was to be believed, Marlene’s knowledge of rune application got her a mastery at 18. 

He’d have to trust it was enough.

-

Peter made quick excuses to leave after that, looking a bit green, much to the consternation of Sirius and James. Peter’s weak stomach was legendary.

They tried to convince him to stick around, but Peter cited that his head really wasn’t up for it after being smacked into the wall.

Sirius couldn’t blame him, the evening had gone rather sideways. He asked to be kept updated, but didn’t look very confident at the request. The stranger must have really spooked Peter. 

Sirius was a little unsettled by the mysterious man himself, if he was being honest. 

Sirius wished Peter could stay. The rat animagus was a bit brilliant when it came to ironing out details. He’d kept the Marauders out of trouble many times over the course of their long career at Hogwarts by pointing out the flaws in their plans and steering them down more covert routes. 

That sort of analytical thinking could only be useful in this situation.

Merlin, time magic? What the bloody hell had they gotten into? 

-

While Sirius, James, and Remus sipped lightly on a cup of Dorcas’s (truly abysmal, not enough sugar) tea, the others occupied their time with other pursuits.

Dorcas reorganized Lily’s spice cabinet, much to the redhead’s ire. She threatened to do the same to Lily’s potion supplies, but Lily was able to deter her for the time being. 

Marlene pulled out a piccolo from who knows where, cited something about serenading Dorcas, and had left the room to venture into the kitchen where she started playing a light melody. He’d heard Dorcas interrupting some of the more annoying tunes and requesting specific songs. Marlene must play a lot at their home.

After setting Dorcas to task, Lily spent the rest of the time pacing the lounge. Sirius did his best to stay out of her way, not wanting to catch her attention. He wasn’t ready to have such eerily similar green eyes turned on him yet. 

The thought was daunting.

_James looks, Lily’s eyes…_

Finally, they were all sober, the wine and potion working their way out of their systems and a plan was put forth. 

Remus and James were in unanimous agreement. They volunteered (coerced) Sirius to be the one to question their mysterious guest. 

“Really, Sirius,” Remus intoned with faux gravity, “it’s a great honor to question a man capable of destroying Lily’s delicious bread pudding without remorse.” 

Sirius shot a hex at him.

Sirius yelled at them all after the werewolf dodged behind James and they both started snickering, but then set down his teacup anyway and stood up. He walked towards the exit, ignoring James short call of “Good luck!” as he left the room.

He moved to stand before the closed office door, setting his hand against the wood but not yet opening it. 

His palms felt sweaty. He wasn’t afraid, for a reason he couldn’t quite understand. Though, he should’ve been with his first impression of the man.

He wasn’t afraid, but he was uncomfortable. There was a buzzing beneath his skin. A sense to expect the unexpected, to keep his guard up.

Dumbledore would be here soon, he reminded himself. An hour or two, at the most. Lily had said the headmaster would be over after settling some things at the school for his absence. It was harder and harder for him to comfortably leave the school unattended. He assured them their worries were founded, that they should remain cautious when dealing with the unknown man. Regardless of how he looked. 

He’d also agreed to their idea of questioning the man when Lily had called again to inform him. His eyes had twinkled merrily when Sirius was first suggested to actually perform the interrogation, much to Remus and James’ amusement. 

Sirius wouldn’t hold his breath for the unknown man to be receptive to this impromptu chat, but Sirius had seen Dumbledore make astounding leaps in logic based on very little information before. The older man had often known what the Marauders were up to in their school days and, even now, seemed one step ahead of the Death Eaters at every turn. 

Whatever Sirius gleaned now would only assist Albus in assessing this strange and dangerous man. The less work Albus had to do, the quicker information could be given to Albus without the runaround of the recalcitrant man, the better. 

Sirius hoped it was enough. 

-

“Reneverate,” Sirius said, waving his wand over the man’s slumped form. 

The man didn’t move.

Sirius scratched his jaw roughly in confusion and nervous frustration. “Reneverate,” he repeated and flicked his wand with a severe movement. 

Sirius glared at his wand, at the man, the stupid runes on the door, the man, then his wand again.

He looked up just in time to catch the man doing a familiar and complicated back roll out of his chair and dive behind the desk. He heard the sound of frantic shuffling. A bookshelf was tipped over.

“Fuck,” Sirius muttered eloquently as those spilled books were then tossed at a high velocity directly at his face. He feels a bit blindsided, even though he should have expected as much to happen. Probably should have tied the man up, then. Another book flew at him and he dodged only for another thick hardback to box him on the left ear. He let out a startled yelp.

“Stop! For Merlin’s sake!” He yelled angrily. He threw a book back half heartedly and watched it ping uselessly against the wall. 

“Bugger fuck!” He shrieked again when the man threw a particularly vicious overhand and nailed him directly above the temple. “You bloody maniac!” His wand hand flew up to cup the smarting mark, agitated red sparks shooting out of the ebony tip and casting brilliant shadows around the chaotic scene. 

“Says the guy with the dead man’s face!”

Sirius stared incredulously in the general direction of where he thought the man was hiding, totally thrown by the remark. It was just enough time standing stationary for the mysterious and obviously very insane man to pelt a notebook and research manual at him, smacking Sirius squarely on his left ear and right cheekbone respectively.

Sirius let out an undignified squeak of pain, and ducked behind the man’s knocked over chair. 

“Can you stop?” Sirius begged. Then added, voice impressed despite himself, “you absolute nutter.”

He heard the man scoff, but no more objects were thrown, so Sirius counted it as a win. “So,” Sirius said heavily, “I was supposed to ask you some basic questions. You know, what’s your name, where are you from, how’d you get here. Really, I thought I’d be the one strong-arming you into answering, not getting attacked with Lily’s notes and book collection.”

“I mean, really, how am I supposed to convince you I’m not a Death Eater in disguise when you could just as easily be one? Attack first, question later is very Death Eater-esque.” Sirius asked with mounting agitation.

“Never met a death eater who threw books instead of curses.” The man had a point, though that was almost moot as he was missing his wand. “And you haven’t really tried to persuade me that you actually _are_ Sirius.”

Sirius felt his heart constrict at the confirmation that this alarming stranger knew his name, even though he’d expected it. He pushed away the discomfort and tried to mask his anxiety. “If anyone can manage to impersonate me,” Sirius said with faux loftiness, “they can have the full role. I love me, but hate to be me. Could use more comedic relief if you’re asking me.”

The man remained silent. 

Sirius peeked over the edge of the overturned chair back. “Listen, we’re paranoid, not violent. We don’t want to hurt you. We try to stay on the right side of the law, blurry as the line is nowadays. Most would have already foisted you off onto the aurors to drag you into the bowels of the Ministry.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Sirius doesn’t really have an answer for him. Not one that makes sense. He’s still reeling from the man’s uncanny likeness with James. The gut feeling that this man was important, could not be released into Ministry hands, was one that they all felt, sans Dorcas. 

He doesn’t have much to offer, can’t even say why they’ve been regarding the man with less hostility than they usually afford random guests. He’d usually be up in arms, not cowering behind a chair. They were _order members_ , for Merlin’s sake. Moody would be so disappointed. He hasn’t even cursed the man at all!

He doesn’t want to hurt the man though, nor spook him, ridiculous as that sounds. 

Sirius still wished James were in the room with him too, getting answers to their pertinent questions. He was fumbling in his attempt.

There was something about attacking a man who looked exactly like James that sat weird with him, though. It was why even the books at his face didn’t feel like a true declaration of war, but rather like it was just a very _alarming_ chat, with furniture in the way as a buffer.

This man, exasperating and fascinating in equal measure, simply _cannot_ be evil, it was unthinkable.

As opposed to the alternative being that he is on the other side, looking like _that_ and working with Voldemort. No, absolutely not. Sirius can admit he doesn’t want to acknowledge the possibility, though it would be stupid not to ask. 

“For one, it looked like McKinnon was going to cry when we suggested just handing you over,” Sirius said with brevity. “She loves crazy, and time magic is a family favorite. Way she spun it for us back in the parlor, you should be tearing at the fabric of reality. Disgusting as it sounds, she can’t _taste_ any paradoxes yet and that’s strange enough to keep you around.”

“She can’t what?” The tone was incredulous, and Sirius doesn’t blame him. Marlene has her own odd brand of witchcraft.

“McKinnons,” Sirius offered in lieu of an explanation. “That’s just how they do.”

“Right, of course.”

Sirius knew the man was just humoring him, but Sirius was trying to be disarming. He felt like he was all over the place, adrenaline still pumping fast in his veins. The edges of his vision were fuzzy.

“You lot think I’ve time-traveled, then?” The man’s voice was small, barely decipherable from behind the furniture.

Sirius titled his head. “What do you think happened?”

“I know not to trust my senses.”

Sirius lifted his brows at that confusing statement. “You still think we’re impersonators? You obviously recognized our faces, but you don’t seem inclined to take our word for it. Couldn’t we prove it to you?”

He got no answer to that. Sirius bit his lip in contemplation.

“This war has made everyone paranoid, I suppose.” Sirius said sadly. “Promise that was James Potter back there, not some pretender.”

“And you’re sure you’re Sirius Black?”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Now that would be telling. Are you ready to share?” The man didn’t answer again. Sirius continued for them both, “How far from the future are you from?”

Sirius let the man stew in his silence, knowing the non-answers were telling too.

“You look so much like James,” Sirius said with caution, “but Great Aunt Dorea told everyone her daughter died, unless that wasn’t true? Got married and had you sometime later, maybe?”

He was fishing, he knew it, and the man wasn’t really responding to it. It was far off the mark from where Sirius wanted to be, from the questions he really wanted to ask. Another reason Sirius was a terrible interrogator. James was so much better. Merlin.

“But really, I see none of Dorea or Great Uncle Charlus in you. So I’m going to assume that you’re someone else’s kid. Someone that knows us and looks so much like my best friend that it makes me a bit queasy, if I’m being honest.”

Sirius stared hard at the silent desk. Something had to give.

“I...hate to say this,” the stranger stiltedly said, “but I believe you. You’re...really Sirius.”

Sirius conjured a white flag and waved it tentatively. He saw bright green eyes peek at him from around the desk. He could see a hint of the curious scar from before. “You think we could sit like normal people and talk now that you’ve decided to believe me?”

“Do you interrogate everyone you first meet?”

“Only the prettiest ones!” Sirius chimed back. He waved his wand and the furniture righted itself, fallen literary weapons returning to their rightful place on the desk or shelves. “Now come on, I’m _dying_ to hear why you implied I could possibly be dead in the future.”

The man, half raised from his position behind Lily's desk, snarled at him. 

Sirius lifted placating hands. “Or not,” he said. 

The strange man grunted and snagged the heavy, wooden chair leaning against the wall next to the bookshelf. He set it behind the desk and slumped into it, dropping his elbows onto the work surface after pushing away Lily’s notes.

Sirius plopped a seat in his previous stronghold, the chair the man had turned over in his haste to lunge behind Lily’s desk. Sirius would have liked to reverse their positions, to be sitting behind the desk as planned, but he wasn’t about to ask the man to move. 

“So,” Sirius said, “what’s your name?”

-

An hour later and Sirius had few answers and a very aching head. 

The man talked Sirius into dizzying circles. He was friendly and amicable one moment, treating Sirius like an old friend. Then a switch flips and the man was hostile, tense and coiled like a cobra ready to strike. The dichotomy was starling.

Sirius felt whiplash by the display. The man was a host of contradictions, biting wit and brief moments of aggression tempered by a potent weariness. 

The exhaustion on his face couldn’t be faked, the deep purple smears beneath his eyes were real. He had sharp edges, jagged corners and it made Sirius wonder how long the war continued, whether this ever ended. Was this man the future? 

“Where were you before you crashed our dinner?” He asked for the third time, glaring at the tensing of the man’s muscles. “Why not just get the truth off your chest? The answer could give us an idea of how you ended up here!”

“I was about to have a shower. Just grabbed a new conditioning elixir, too. Was hoping to tame my wild mess,” the man snarked. His eyes darted to catch Sirius’ gaze before skittering away to stare into the corner again. 

Sirius sighed, dragging a frustrated hand through his thick curls. It was the third answer he’d gotten to the question, each different and unbelievable, mundane or otherwise. “What’s your name?”

“That one is getting old.” The man’s chair tipped back dangerously far. He drummed his long, tapered fingers on the desk in a staccato rhythm. 

“It’s the one I am _dying_ to know,” Sirius jabbed coyly. 

Having grown used to Sirius antics in the hour they’d been exchanging banter in the disguise of an interrogation, the man merely raised a brow before smirking. 

“I wish you’d ask something better.”

“Like what?” 

“Maybe who wins the Quidditch World Cup in 1989?”

Sirius throws his arms up in exasperation. “You’re infuriating!”

They’re interrupted by a series of knocks at the door. The tense stranger gave a barely perceptible flinch. 

Sirius hardly glanced towards the man’s way. “I’ll be back in a mo’.” He slipped out the door without looking back. 

-

“Professor!” Sirius cried out in relief as soon as the door shut behind him and he caught sight of the wizened old wizard standing in the foyer. 

James and Lily stood in the doorway to the parlor, pinched expressions on both of their faces. Dorcas had her arms crossed, an aggravated look to her features. She was pressed against the wall, glowering at nothing. Remus stood closest to Sirius, having been the one to knock.

He didn’t see Marlene anywhere, but knew she had to still be in the house since Dorcas hadn’t left yet. 

Dumbledore was decked in shimmering teal robes embroidered with tiny orange blossoms. His hair was long and greying. Sirius could still see hints of ginger in the old man’s beard. He looked loose and casual standing in Lily and James’ modest home. The air about him was even reassuring.

He was truly a sight for sore eyes. Sirius was ecstatic to see him.

He felt as if he’d gotten nowhere with their mysterious interloper in the hour they’d had together. 

“Sirius,” Dumbledore said in a delighted voice. “Lovely to have you join us! I was just hearing about the young man locked in James’ office.”

“My office,” Lily muttered petulantly. She glared at James, who looked ecstatic. 

Remus snorted very quietly while Sirius rolled his eyes at her. 

“Please,” Albus drew back their attention, “tell me your impressions of our mysterious guest.”

“He’s a wanker,” Sirius blurted. 

Everyone stared at him. 

“I haven’t had much luck,” he said defensively. “You’d have a better chance summoning his molars than getting answers.”

“Even a small detail you believe to be insignificant could tell much more than you can possibly imagine,” Dumbledore insisted. “Please leave nothing out. Let’s start from the top, shall we?”

Sirius can’t help but relax, some of the tightness he’s been carrying in his chest loosening a fraction. It is nice to have Dumbledore.

Sometimes the old wizard feels omniscient, though he never shies from his mistakes. He often describes himself as fallible when asked. Yet, Sirius regards Dumbledore with admiration in spite, or maybe even because, of this. 

He has met many strong witches and wizards in his years as the Black heir. He spent hours begrudgingly schmoozing the top dredges of society once his mother felt he was old enough to attend large formal gatherings. He’d put his foot down as soon as he turned 15, but the experience never left him.

He’s shaken hands with those that were often regarded as some of the most influential and powerful people in Wizarding Britain. 

There is something about Dumbledore, however, that puts him in a class of his own. 

Something Sirius glimpsed in You-Know-Who, the one time he met the gruesome man at eighteen when he was offered the Dark Mark. 

Both Dumbledore and Voldemort, without ever raising a wand, could send shivers down anyone’s spine. The magic that hovered in the air around them both was that heady. He’s never met anyone else with quite the same effect besides those two. 

Though he supposed that wasn’t true now. The man certainly gave Voldemort a run for his money in oppressive power. 

“Right, I agree,” Sirius clapped his hands. “But why don’t we have a seat while we talk, Professor? A short chat with a cup of tea before you talk to my favorite prisoner, yes?”

Dimhledore peered at him from over the rim of his delicate glasses. “Right you are, my boy.”

Lily raised her voice and called to the women revealed to be still in the kitchen. “Marlene? Mind making us a fresh round of tea? She snagged James’ arm and dragged him through the door. 

Dumbledore drifted after them, humming a pleasant melody.

Sirius trailed behind more sedately and heard Dorcas’ mumbled complaints about their terrible taste from where she still lingered in the foyer. Then he guessed Marlene turned the sink on to refill the kettle again. The sound of running water cut off Dorcas. Sirius was still thankful Lily requested Marlene’s tea, as he couldn’t stand another cup of Dorcas’ bitter brew. 

James and Lily sat themselves on the loveseat. Dumbledore took the plush armchair. He sunk into it, looking small. Dorcas sat on the far edge of the couch. After Marlene brought floating cups into the room that settled in front of each of them, she plopped herself in Dorcas’ lap. Dorcas looked unfazed. 

Which left Sirius to the middle and Remus to hug the edge. It was quite cozy as the couch was not very big. His side pressed against the werewolf’s, skin was warm where they touched. 

Marlene giggled, staring at Sirius’ red face. He gave her a horrified look to which she returned a thumbs up. He mouthed _I will hex you_ and she nodded excitedly. He made a weirded out face at her and turned back to Dumbledore, who was watching the exchange with an amused look. 

Remus coughed with exaggeration. James started to whistle a tune only for Lily to elbow him in the side. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat. He glanced at the clock pointedly. “Lily has given me a short version of what occurred during your evening meal, but I think I need to hear the long one.”

James nodded and leaned forward, face serious again. “I’m anxious to hear what he said when you questioned him too.”

“Like I said,” Sirius shrugged, “ not much.” He shifted to get more comfortable, but couldn’t find a good spot.

“Not even his name?” Remus asked with a frown. He pulled his arm from where it was stuck between them, noticing Sirius’ discomfort. 

He then draped it behind Sirius’ head. Sirius froze, even though the action was likely to give Sirius more room to adjust his position. Marlene nudged him with her foot without a reaction.

“Sirius?” Remus poked him. He spluttered, coming back to himself, and slapped the werewolf’s hand. He glanced at Dumbledore's drawn gaze and straightened, blushing like he’d been rebuked. 

He switched his thoughts to the man in the office, still unknown in every aspect but the brand of shampoo he used and the colors of socks he wore. Sirius only had mundane and useless information to offer them.

“No,” Sirius confirmed, dejected by his lack of progress. Though the man _had_ stopped throwing books at him. That was something, right? “Not even his name.”

Dumbledore broke in again with a sigh. “I must ask you to return to the beginning. Tell me, Lily, my dear, at what time did you all sit to eat?” 

-

Any tea leftover had long grown cold. Their cups lay scattered across the coffee table. They absorbed the lingering last words of Sirius, who’d finished his retelling of his time interrogating the strange man. 

Albus stewed in his own thoughts at the conclusion of the discussion, ignoring them all. He’d steepled his fingers delicately before his face and peered toward the ground with faraway eyes.

Used to his pensive silences after the many order meetings they’d been to by now, the friends ignored Dumbledore and drew together. 

“What do you think?” Sirius murmured. He played idly with his wand again, which he finally noticed hadn’t actually left his hand since he’d walked into the office. He hadn’t felt it in his hand, had just kept it tucked half up his sleeve, part of the wood pressed against his wrist. He’d slipped it out with hardly a thought as well. 

Was the unconscious gesture defensive or meant to comfort? Sirius couldn’t tell. 

“I’m afraid, but I also can’t stop _staring_ at him.” Lily said the sentence in one breath, her words rushed. She looked guilty, her eyes downcast. James grabbed her hands where they sat clenched on top of her knees. She glanced at him with a grateful gaze.

Lily turned back to their expectant eyes. “I used a one-way transparency spell on the wall while Sirius was talking to him.” She paused to look at James again and the man nodded back at her. “James stood with me a few times. We _really_ can’t help it.”

Remus raised a brow. “Thought you two were off snogging.” 

James smirked but shook his head. “No,” James said with good humor. “Just being voyeurs.”

Sirius snorted. “Did you see him absolutely nail me with those books? Bloke has great aim. Everywhere smarts. Feels like I went a round in the sheets with a troll.”

Remus elbowed him, face beet red. “You are all so uncouth,” he hissed. “Why do I put up with this?” He asked himself forlornly. 

Sirius grinned devilishly. “Oh, Moony,” he purred, leaning even closer to the werewolf, “you’re so squeamish.” 

He yelped when Marlene dug her toes into his side unexpectedly. He whipped around to glare at her.

Marlene was curled on top of Dorcas, just a tight ball of limbs. Her head was tucked beneath Dorcas’ chin. Her wild black curls hid the bottom half of Dorcas’ face. She didn’t move except to continue to wiggle her appendages aggressively into Sirius’ kidney. 

He growled at her and sent a little shock to her feet with his wand. She giggled, but pulled away. He rolled his eyes. 

“Bet you wish _Moony_ would go a round in the sheets with you, eh, Black sheep?” She whispered at him so only he could hear and smiled innocently. He blushed and tried to fire a hex at her but Remus elbowed him again. 

Sirius shot her one last warning glare before deciding to be a bigger person for once and _ignore_ the wild harpy of a woman. She just had way, way too much fun picking on Sirius. And Lily would never speak to him again if he pranked her. He couldn’t even really defend himself against her taunts which was just _so_ unfair.

Plus Marlene’s mother freaked him out and he wouldn’t dare dream of pissing her off by messing with her daughter, but that was beside the point. 

James sighed dramatically. “You’re all childish and if anyone puts up with anyone around here, it’s me.”

Lily smacked his thigh playfully. “Dorcas and I are the adults around here.”

Everyone chuckled lightly before they lapsed into silence. 

It was deep into the night. The clock on the wall read that it was creeping closer to eleven pm. They were all getting tired. The night had been stressful, tension only broken in small spurts of their enduring humor. 

They were all trying to stay lighthearted through their stress and anxiety. Dumbledore’s presence helped tremendously. 

They all felt the presence of the unwanted guest, though he was separated from them by walls and a door and a rune. He wasn’t in the same room as them, but he lingered all the same, permeating the air. 

Sirius hated that he couldn’t help but like the man. He hated even more that the same magnetism was drawing _everyone_ closer. What was it that pushed them to regard the man so strangely?

Remus hummed, breaking the quiet. “He _is_ fascinating though, isn’t he?” The man looked off to the side, lost in thought again. “I just wonder what this all means, who he is…,” he trailed off. 

Marlene nodded solemnly against Dorcas’ chest. “I love him.”

Dorcas hissed at her and swatted her thigh. “You will contain yourself,” Dorcas whispered furiously. Marlene peeked up at her with a guileless expression. Sirius bit his lip to stop his laugh. 

“I think,” Dumbkedore interrupted, making all but Marlene jump, “that I should very much like to meet our guest now.” He had laid his hands on his lap, fingers spread across both knees. The old wizard turned his piercing blue eyes onto Sirius. 

Sirius gulped and shrank down. 

Dumbledore smiled without sympathy. “Sirius,” he said pleasantly, “I would love it if you would supervise this chat. You, arguably, know this man best.”

“We barely spoke for an hour!” Sirius argued indignantly. “And I’d rather have tried to get to know a manticore!”

Dumbledore’s eyes glimmered. “Be that as it may, I would still bid you to accompany me.”

“He’s going to throw more books at me,” Sirius whined but stood, as he was wont to do. “Let’s get this over with.” 

-

Albus closed the door with a soft click. 

The room hadn’t changed in the time Sirius had been gone, though he had half expected it to. Everything was still in its proper place. The desk sat in the center of the room, bookshelves behind it against the wall on either side. A simple wooden desk chair was before the desk, but a few scant inches away from the front. The filing cabinets were also still in place against the far wall across from the door and adjacent to the desk. It was a simple room, hardly decorated yet.  
James and Lily argued about decor for the office every step of the way. 

The man also hadn’t moved much. He was slumped against the desk, elbows on the table head resting in his hands. He didn’t seem particularly ruffled at the moment, but they weren’t questioning him yet so that could change at any moment. 

The man looked as tired as Sirius felt. The bags beneath his eyes seemed more pronounced now. His clothes were wrinkled, like he’d been wearing them for much longer than just today. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. 

Sirius moved to stand in the far corner, mostly hidden by shadows. He’d been forgotten as soon as Dumbledore strode in. 

The man sat up from where’d he’d been slumped against the desk and turned alarmed green eyes on the old wizard. He hadn’t looked away since. Dumbledore returned the gaze with a leveled stare of his own and sat delicately in the chair across from the man.

The desk was a welcome barrier between the two, for Sirius could feel the air charging with emotion. He couldn’t tell who it was coming from. It made him nervous. He grimaced, wishing he was back on the couch. 

“Correct me if I am wrong, but I have some theories,” Dumbledore stated first. He smiled disarmingly. 

The man shifted subtly in his seat. He made a vague gesture for Dumbledore to continue. 

“You have some idea why you’re out of time.” He said the words delicately, but without inflection. A truth delivered with care. 

Sirius knew it was normal for Albus to get to the heart of the matter in such a way, to reach for the hard facts and draw his own conclusions. Sirius knew Albus had a talent for making people uncomfortable. He just wished he knew how the man would react once the Headmaster set that analytical mind to work. 

“Yes,” the man agreed, expression shuttered. 

Sirius blinked stupidly. That was the most honest and succinct the man had been all day. 

“The lack of paradoxes points to a temporal shift. To my knowledge, there is no way to get back to your own time.” Dumbledore steepled his fingers beneath his chin and leaned forward. His beard almost brushed against the desk.

The man lifted an unimpressed brow and leaned subtly back into his chair. “And you know everything?”

Dumbledore huffed, amused. “I do not pretend to, my boy.” 

“Could have fooled me.”

Dumbledore merely stared at the man. The man stared back. Sirius just kept sweating in the corner.

“I expected something else,” Albus murmured.

The man’s lip curled at that. “I live to upend expectations of me.” 

The Headmaster’s mouth set into a grim line, as if coming to a realization.

“It seems to me that we are well acquainted,” Albus said in a puzzled tone though his blue eyes betrayed some foreboding, “though I have not yet had the pleasure of knowing you in turn.” 

“No,” the man agreed. His eyes were a flat green. “Not yet.”

“It seems I must also apologize to you, young man,” Albus intoned solemnly. 

The man snorted. “What for? You have done nothing to me.”

“Not yet, perhaps, as you say. But the future is another matter entirely. Regardless, I have done- or, rather, will do- you a great disservice,” Albus said. He peered at the man over his half-moon spectacles. “I did something years from now, something that grievously wounded you in the future.”

The man stared back at Albus. His features had slackened, truly surprised by the older wizard’s words. 

“You have not yet recovered,” Albus said softly into the quiet.

The man swallowed, looking away from Albus’s knowing gaze. “I am well enough.”

Albus held up a placating hand. “Never did I doubt the virility of your youth. They tell me you are quite strong, if their description of your display earlier was accurate.”

“Wild magic is no legitimate display,” the man dismissed.

“If your magic is wild, mine grew up in a barn.”

A startled laugh escaped the man. He looked much younger when he laughed. Albus seemed pleased with himself. 

“You truly haven’t changed a bit, Headmaster,” the man said. His eyes were brighter now, the shadows in them quelled for now. 

“Please,” Albus offered, “call me Albus. School is out for the summer, after all, and you are no student.”

The stranger saw the old man’s words for what they were. His smile froze in place before falling away as if it had never been. Fire roared to life in his molten viridian irises. Sirius could see the cogs turning. Sirius held his breath, wishing Albus might have waited a bit longer.

_(Stuck here for now as Dumbledore supposed, what choice does the man really have?)_

The man glanced at Sirius and saw the hopeful look across the dog animagus’ face before he could hide it. He looked annoyed at the expression. He returned to his staring contest with the professor. His eyes narrowed, he said in a soft and deadly voice, “you may call me Harry, then.” 

Sirius felt a knot he didn’t know was there ease away. Dumbledore had done the impossible.

Harry. _Harry _. Harry what?__

__-_ _

__What followed was another hour long discussion. Sirius learned much more than he expected about Harry._ _

__Sirius had relocated to the floor, slumped against the wall. His mother would be horrified. Over that hour, he’d watched the back and forth between Harry and Albus with growing amusement._ _

__It was hilarious to watch Dumbledore receive a similar runaround to what Sirius had experienced. While Harry was certainly more forthcoming with the Headmaster, he was still as distinctly infuriating as Sirius had come to know in his short time with him._ _

__He switched the subject a dozen times and told digressive stories that had answered no questions. He made several offhand comments to Dumbledore alluding to an issue with the current state of the Wizengamot, implying it was the Chief Warlock’s fault before denying everything when directly asked._ _

__He did apologize for attacking Sirius, which was nice. He didn’t mention attacking Peter, which was less nice. He explained that he’d run into scenarios that had made him question the faces of those around him, and that there were some people cruel enough and who hated him enough to wear _their_ faces. He didn’t explain why their faces were significant to him but it was fine. He promised not to attack them again, so that was something._ _

__Harry, much to Sirius’ surprise, was also a _seasoned_ Auror. He even said “when I joined the force _years ago_ ”, hinting at a long career._ _

__The man seemed so young, close to their age rather than anything else. Siri is wouldn’t have guessed anything older than 23._ _

__And god, an Auror. James was barely a part of the way through the program and he was always dogged tired after. The training was _brutal_. Not just physically, but mentally as well. There were classes on law and standards, as well as rigorous defense lessons. It usually took years to join the Aurors. There was a two year probationary period after the training as well, after all. _ _

__Harry mentioned his profession casually, completely assured. So was Sirius wrong about Harry’s age? He obviously wasn’t in training, nor was he still in the provisional time._ _

__Harry said he’d been _leading_ a case. Sirius had never heard of an Auror leading a case while so young. Moody always acted as if it took years of experience. Was Harry special or just much older than he looked?_ _

__Harry said the case reminded him strongly of something from his younger years, though he wouldn’t say what._ _

__He’d been led on a wild goose chase across the continent, finally tracking his unknown subject to the magical capital of India. He’d been having an early breakfast with colleagues from the Indian Magical Enforcement when there’d been a violet glow of light._ _

__He described the sensations he’d experienced while traveling through time as if he had been cut into tiny pieces and stuffed in a box before being thrown down a hill, full bumps and sharp jolts of pain._ _

__“Hm,” Albus pulled lightly on his beard. “This is truly odd.”_ _

__Harry shrugged. “Not the first weird thing to happen to me.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, looking unconcerned._ _

__They concluded their talk with an agreement, which the Headmaster requested gleefully that they all shake on it at the same time. What followed was a bizarre three-way handshake between an amused Sirius, a glum Harry, and a delighted Dumbledore._ _

__The agreement was for Harry to head to Hogwarts in the morning for time to research. James and Lily’s home just wasn’t secure enough to house them while they searched to find the cause of Harry’s time travel and if there was a way to send him back. They also didn’t have access to enough material._ _

__Sirius and James would accompany him to make sure nothing went wrong. They would be apparating to Hosmeade and walking the rest of the way._ _

__Harry didn’t look particularly pleased, but he agreed nonetheless. Hogwarts did have the biggest library in Europe, after all._ _

__“Let us update your friends, Sirius.” Dumbledore went towards the exit before glancing back at Harry._ _

__Sirius knocked on the wood of the door, signaling to his friends they were about to emerge. He half turned back to Dumbledore, who was still watching Harry, and waited._ _

__“We will return shortly, Harry,” the headmaster offered Harry with a smile, “along with knowledge of where you will be accommodated for the night. Perhaps Lily will allow you the use of her fine couch as I believe Sirius is in the guest room.”_ _

__Harry nodded. He didn’t say anything. He looked timid._ _

__Sirius opened the door. He and Dumbledore left the room._ _

__-_ _

__“You make lovely children,” Albus said when he emerged from the room with Sirius in tow, smiling merrily. He’d lost the guarded edge he’d held with Harry that Sirius hadn’t noticed was there as he gazed now at some of his favorite students. His eyes were twinkling merrily, as if he hadn't just dropped a dungbomb._ _

__Sirius snorted, amused through the slight shock. Harry what, indeed. Surely, the Headmaster could have delivered that a little softer?_ _

__(He’d kind of known, but he hadn’t really _known_.)_ _

__“No,” Lily’s face was aghast, skin pale. Her green eyes positively glowed with her incredulity. “That man? And James and I?” Her face was incredulous. “Absolutely not,” she concluded._ _

__His friends’, sans Marlene, had converged in the foyer at the sound of the knock. Or they’d already been there, watching through the wall with Lily’s spell. He couldn’t be sure._ _

__They stood around with varying degrees of shock on their faces. He could see the same underlying expectancy he’d felt on all their faces._ _

__They’d all _known_ without knowing._ _

__“I’m sorry, my dear,” Albus offered, “but the evidence is simply overwhelming. That man is your son from over 20 years in the future.”_ _

__“Overwhelming? He’s hardly said anything! How did you come to the conclusion that he is our _son_?”_ _

__“Have you looked at him?” Sirius said dryly. “He’s the spitting image of James.”_ _

__“‘Cept the eyes!” Marlene called out, her head peering from the kitchen, piccolo in hand. “Those are all Lily Billy’s.” She slipped into the room to stand next to Dorcas and tucked her instrument away._ _

__“Headmaster,” James cut in, “not to be rude, but you must admit that this sounds rather unbelievable.” He waved his arms exaggeratedly as if to encompass all that’s happened around them the past few hours._ _

__“Ah, yes,” Albus agreed. “I do see your point. But magic can not always be explained. Am I to dismiss the improbable truth simply because it seemed impossible?”_ _

__“So what are we doing?” Remus asked, ever practical._ _

__Dumbledore fiddled with the end of his beard. “For now,” he said somberly, “nothing. A good night’s sleep is in order before we address the matter of Harry’s time travel more thoroughly.”_ _

__“Harry?” Dorcas asked incredulously, focusing on the reveal of the man’s name. “You named your child _Harry_?”_ _

__Lily threw up her arms in exasperation before leaning heavily into James’ side. “Guess we did. Not sure what we were thinking.” She waved her hand towards the closed office door. “Where’s he staying tonight? My brain is trying to leak out of my ears so I think it is _well_ past my bedtime.”_ _

__Marlene laughed. “I imagine your baby boy will have to sleep on the couch, Lily Billy.”_ _

__“No,” Lily said, once again aghast. “Here?”_ _

__“Afraid so, my dear,” Dumbledore gave her a gentle smile._ _

__“Why can’t he go to the school now and sleep in one of the dorms?” Lily demanded hotly._ _

__Dumbledore shook his head. “It is too risky to move him now. I need just a few hours more to prepare. Voldemort _must_ not learn of Harry. The consequences would be dire. I must have the Dark Lord’s attention directed elsewhere whilst Harry is transported to the school.”_ _

__Sirius wondered what the old man was planning to do in order to hold Voldemort’s attention tomorrow. Probably something much more exciting than escorting Harry._ _

__James groaned, resigned. “He’s not going to attack us in our sleep, is he?”_ _

__Remus gave the man a snooty look. “Prongs, that’s your son you’re speaking ill of!”_ _

__James covered his face with his hands and groaned again. “This is insane. I’m not old enough to be a dad. Are you _really_ sure this isn’t a plot to murder us all by the Death Eaters?”_ _

__“If only,” Lily muttered. She sighed. “He can sleep on the couch, but if he tries to murder us, I reserve the right to use him for potions’ ingredients.”_ _

__“Fair,” Sirius said. He glanced at the door where Harry waited on the other side. “Ready to officially meet your son, then?”_ _

__Remus chuckled. James shook his head. Lily turned a bit green._ _

__Dumbledore smiled and gestured at Sirius. He moved towards the office door at the behest._ _

__Sirius held his breath as he threw open the door before stepping away. He started to call out to Harry to come meet everyone _properly_ this time when he was interrupted by the arrival of a silver cheetah._ _

__It was a patronus, hurried and glistening as it appeared in a flurry of wispy blue glow._ _

__The unexpected patronus opened its mouth and Caradoc Dearborn’s voice emerged. “Albus,” the man said in a haunting echo. “-attacking Wimbourne. He has come himself. The Jackson family is dead. Come at once. The Death Eaters are attacking Wimbourne. He has come-”_ _

__The cheetah shifted and dissipated into nothing, the spell having run its course now that the message was delivered._ _

__The expressions around the room were varying degrees of shock and horror. The Jacksons were a first generation magical family. Both parents were muggleborns. Their children were all under _five_._ _

__Lily had covered her mouth with one hand after she’d let out a noise of surprise. A tear leaked from the corner of her eye. James looked mortified at the news, clutching onto her other hand with a white knuckled grip. Remus eyes shown amber in the dim foyer lighting. Marlene and Dorcas were curled into each other._ _

__Sirius made eye contact with Dumbledore and could tell what the old wizard was thinking. He wanted them to stay here, to not join the fight. Perhaps to protect them and perhaps to have more guards around Harry. Either way, he didn’t want any of them going anywhere, not even to return to their own homes._ _

__“Unfortunately,” Dumbledore stated into the churning atmosphere left by the patronus, “I must take my leave early. If you would all please-”_ _

__“H-he’s alive?” A small voice interrupted._ _

__They turned to Harry at his sudden interjection. He stood in the doorway of the office, having obviously heard Dearborn’s message. His figure was tiny and hunched where he stood, like some great weight was pressing him down. He’d crept towards them silently in the scant moments it took for them to process the horrible news._ _

__“No, of course. If all of you are, of course he is alive.” His voice was high, his eyes were unseeing. He stared off distantly to the side. “I have to _go_ ,” he said, soft and defeated. He turned a desperate gaze onto them, looking first from James, to Lily, to Sirius, before settling on Dumbledore. “I have to see him.”_ _

__His voice was a plea and a promise only Dumbledore appeared to understand, if the old wizard’s grim set to his mouth meant anything. Harry’s pale face shifted between a myriad of expressions, never staying on one long. “I’m sorry.”_ _

__And he did look sorry. An overwhelming regret lingered in the corners of his downturned mouth. Harry’s eyes flashed and Sirius thought he saw a fearsome reckoning there, anticipation and feverish need._ _

__Harry clicked his tongue. James yelped as the wand that was tucked in his back pocket was abruptly yanked from his trousers. It flew forward and smacked into Harry’s waiting hand._ _

__Sirius reached forward, all at once desperate to stop this man, to stop Lily and James’ _son_ from running off to what?_ _

__See a madman? Take a peek at the darkest wizard of their time? What did he want to do? Have a chat? What was even happening?_ _

__Was Sirius’ gut feeling wrong about Harry? The way he couldn’t help but relax, to even feel charmed and amused by some of their talk, was he wrong? _Did_ this man have some connection to Voldemort, regardless of his relation to the Potters? _ _

__Were they being blindsided and taken advantage of by a “pretty” face?_ _

__“I’m so sorry,” Harry repeated. He shook his head as if clearing away a thought. “I just have to see for myself.” Familiar and chilling magic swelled._ _

__Sirius felt his panic _surge_. Remus drew forward beside him, reaching too. James and Lily were struggling to lift their wands, expressions horrified._ _

__Dumbledore didn’t move an inch. He looked resigned._ _

__Harry smiled at them all sadly. A fraction of a second passed. His wand twitched, his magic shuddered._ _

__He disappeared without a sound, the wards left a gutted out husk behind him._ _

__-_ _

__Harry’s departure did not leave them frozen in shock._ _

__They all moved now, no longer impeded by their stupefaction, a flurry of anxious movements and shouts._ _

__Dumbledore called for order, forcing them to calm. He gave them each direction, things to do, ways to help get Harry back safely. Their hearts continued to race, but their senseless panic was quelled by their new purposes._ _

__“Voldemort must not realize Harry is from the future,” Albus said. “We must act fast.”_ _

__Dorcas, and Marlene were to start searching on the outskirts of Wimbourne and work their way into the town. James and Lily were going to try a blood locator, though it was feared that the temporal distortions would prevent the spell from working. Remus and Sirius were to apparate into the middle of the fray, directly into the fighting. Dumbledore and other order members would cover them from spellfire while they looked for the man._ _

__Sirius thought back to Harry’s blind, uncontrollable need. The way he had seemed desperate to even catch a glimpse of Voldemort._ _

__Just what happened in the future? What connection did James and Lily’s future son have to the darkest wizard of their time? Was he _really_ defeated in the future?_ _

__Sirius couldn’t help but worry that he would never know, that they would never learn more about Harry. He would never understand the mysterious man’s secrets. What brought him here, what happened in the future, what happened in the war, why it felt like he looked at every single one of them like ghosts. Was everyone dead in the future?_ _

__Sirius felt as if he wouldn’t get the chance to know because he might never see the man again. Their short time in the room suddenly didn’t feel like enough. He hadn’t gotten to know him at all! Had pestered him with inane questions, ones that didn’t really matter._ _

__Why didn’t he ask Harry’s favorite quidditch team? What house he was in at Hogwarts? Who his friends were growing up? Did he have a girlfriend? A boyfriend? What did he do for fun now that he was an Auror?_ _

__It was James’ son and Sirius had wasted his chance with him._ _

__He might _never_ get to know this iteration of his best friend’s child, because surely the future was changed forever now. Harry, even if he was still born the same boy, wouldn’t grow into the same man. Even the little bit of knowledge Harry had revealed was enough to change the course of the future. He wouldn’t grow into this version again and Sirius might _never get to know him_._ _

__Who knows what would happen if Harry confronted the Dark Lord now? It was a very real possibility that he would be killed or captured._ _

__Sirius might _never know_ and, unless they could get Harry away from Voldemort, he might just have to live with that._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so sorry for the end but I wanted it to be a surprise
> 
> If you guys want, I might write more. No promises tho


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